


Eros (INDEFINITE HIATUS)

by minimumobsession



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Yuri On Ice!! AU/Inspired, coach!junhui, figure skating AU, skater!wonwoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9093136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minimumobsession/pseuds/minimumobsession
Summary: He didn't get the title Ice Prince for nothing, not that he enjoyed it. A stone cold attitude combined with a style of aggressive spins and astounding height, Wonwoo was a bit intimidating. All he's missing is a title in the Grand Prix.Too bad he messed up big time last year and now he's stuck with a hot coach whose a hundred times better than him and innocently flirty.(Yuri on Ice!! AU thing, you don't need to have watched it, but it's a good anime and I recommend it)





	1. Icy Anger

**Author's Note:**

> so this is kind of an au, but more inspired, i'll be taking a lot of things out of the anime so it won't necessarily follow the exact story line, but i'll try to keep it as close as possible  
> fun fact: i had this in my drafts and i felt bad for not writing this fic when asked people which one they rather have so it was already 1.4k and i just edited it and tada i think it's decent  
> this will be chaptered fic, but i probably won't update it again until first love is done (which has another chapter wither later today or tomorrow)  
> (ALSO YOI is the bomb.com, i totally reccomond watching it, though you don't have to if you want to read this fic)

He held his breath, wind whipping past his face as his body turned, closing his eyes, bracing for hard ground. It was a sloppy landing, blade digging awkwardly into the ice as he used his free leg to swing his body around, a hand braced on the ground, pushing his body back into balance, now gliding across the vast rink. The skater slid across the rink, absentmindedly gliding, trying to shake of the memories creeping up his spine.

_Loud thuds on the ice, digging his nails into the ice, blood dripping down the side of his face, his whole body throbbing, the gasps-_

“Wonwoo,” a voice called out from the side of the rink, jolting the skater out of his thoughts. The sound of blades sliding cleanly on top of ice rang through the skater’s ears as he tried to regain his focus, almost stumbling if it wasn’t for the warm body holding onto him and pulling him to the side of the rink and onto the bench.

“Your triple loop was amazing,” the soft voice encouraged, squeezing the taller male’s shoulders. “You just need to-”

“Stick the ending,” the skater cut off, voice deep with aggravation. “I know that Junhui, but some people aren’t fucking perfect like you are.”

Junhui froze, arms slowly retracting around the skater. “Sorry, you’re my first skater I have coached, I’m not sure…” the older male trailed off, not knowing how to comfort the skater. The Grand Prix was in five months, but that wasn’t enough for the skater. The burden of last year’s performance weighed heavy on his shoulders and the skater was stressing himself out trying to prove something, not even his coach knew. Junhui, a five-time finalist of the Grand Prix, standing on the podium all five times, three of them being gold, had offered to coach the skater after Junhui had a nasty fall during practice, resulting with a broken wrist and a one-year hiatus.

Wonwoo thought it was kind of sad, to be quite honest. Ever since Wonwoo meet the legendary skater when they were both juniors, Wonwoo has always admired the fluidity of the older’s body. He always stride to copy Junhui’s techniques and even took up dance because Junhui did. But nothing had helped him, only barely obtaining medals when he wasn’t competing against the Chinese.

Coaching Wonwoo was a lot harder work than Coach Hansu had let on.

“Junhui,” the skater sighed, rubbing his face roughly. “It’s not your fault, I’m just under a lot of stress right now.”

“No, it’s fine,” Junhui squeaked out, trying not to frustrate the skater even more. “People snap when they’re stressed, perfectly normal,” the coach's voice wavering a tiny bit, a bit high pitched at the end, obviously not used to the wrath of angry figure skaters. He was a skater for a reason, not a coach. “We can go take a ten minute break or something?” he offered, freaking out slightly on the inside.

“No, that jump wasn’t even a fucking quad and we planned for three quads in my free program. How am I supposed to make it past qualifyings if I can’t even land a fucking quad in practice? I could only do it two times out of ten the years before.”

“Wonwoo, please. There’s five months before they announce the assignments and at least a couple weeks before the qualifying competitions. You have time,” Junhui pleaded gently, knowing the younger practiced quads thousands of times and stumbling or falling on each landing with bruises marring the pale legs and arms. The skater sighed and gently pushed Junhui off of him, heading to the locker room.

“Fine.”

Junhui skated wobbly behind the skater, still having trouble finding balance with the extra weight on his left arm. Inside the locker room, the skater tugged the skates off his feet, almost throwing them into his bag and stripped down his track suit. The young coach cautiously entered the locker room, still skeptical on his approach on the frustrated skater.

“I’m going back to the house, you don’t need to follow me,” the gruff voice growled after he finished freshening up and slammed the door behind him.

Junhui stared at the door, almost wanting to burst into tears. “Coaching is rough, right?” a voice sounded behind him.

The young coach turned to see the skater’s retired coach standing behind him, smiling warmly at him. “Wonwoo was always a tough skater to work with, too stubborn and feisty. There’s a reason he was called the Ice Prince, sometimes a bitch to work with.”

“He’s not a bitch, just frustrated,” Junhui defended weakly, knowing Coach Hansu’s words were very true.

“Boy, Wonwoo’s a bitchy brat sometimes,” the older coach laughed. “And he has a harder time dealing with authority, namely you. He always said when I trained him, that you were his biggest enemy. It’s good for him that you’re working with him.”

Junhui sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Then how did you deal with his, um, bitchiness?”

“Chocolate, Korean barbeque, and pretty boys.”

“Excuse me?” Junhui asked, face turning pink.

“Those are Wonwoo’s favorite things that he indulges in secretly, well, the chocolate and meat. I don’t know how many pretty boys he’s picked up, I doubt there’s many.”

“But how do I control him with those things?”

“Well, you’re a pretty boy, I bet that’s why he had so much trouble dealing with you as a rival. I always bribed him into behaving with a trip to his favorite Korean barbeque place and then get their chocolate lava cake as dessert, worked like a charm.”

Junhui quirked a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Is that really supposed to work?”

Hansu nodded enthusiastically. “Yup, after I started ‘rewarding’ him for good practice he would work harder without losing his temper, knowing he would get some food in return. Plus it might work better since you’re literally the Pretty Prince of the Ice.”

Junhui flushed a pretty pink. “Stop, I hate that nickname.”

“Well, you are known for your androgynous styles in your skating.”

“I’m going to leave now for Wonwoo,” Junhui said, feeling uncomfortable by the comments of Hansu. He was a great coach, but did not know what the hell boundaries were.

Junhui walked out of the rink, loving the cool summer breeze in the air. He walked down the stone path that led directly to an inn Wonwoo’s family owned that the two were staying at. The young coach walked slowly down the path, relishing in the view of the sun setting right at the ocean. The small Korean town was truly beautiful.

Before he knew it, Junhui was in front of the inn. Bohyuk was on the porch, sweeping away fallen cherry blossoms. The young boy looked and waved at him.

“Hello Junhui!” he said happily. “Wonwoo’s in the hot springs. You know how he gets after practice.”

“I know,” Junhui sighed. “He kept missing his quads today, almost threw his skates on the ground.”

Bohyuk laughed heartily, “Yeah, that’s my brother.” Junhui absolutely adored Wonwoo’s brother, sharing the same exasperation over the bratty tendencies of the Korean skater. Junhui smiled at Bohyuk again and headed inside the inn, not ready to face the aggravated skater.

* * *

 

Junhui sucked in a deep breath, hiking the towel wrapped around his waist higher up his naked waist. He swallowed his pride and pushed open the door of the hot springs room, the humid room already making him sweat.

“Hi,” Junhui greeted timidly, throwing the towel on a stool and stepping into the hot springs. Junhui moaned at the feeling as his tense muscles relaxed under the liquid heat. Wonwoo flinched at the sound and turned his body so his back was leaning on the stone walls as he sunk deep into the pool, hot water coming up to his chin.

“I thought I told you not to follow me,” came the gruff reply as the skater shifted his back to stare at the young coach. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to keep that thing dry?” Wonwoo motioned to Junhui’s cast.

Inside, Junhui wanted to retreat to his room and cry, this is not what he signed up for when he was laying in the hospital, watching a video his rink partner, Minghao, had sent him to cheer him up. He took a deep breath, channeling all his stage energy into his body that helped him set the mood when he performed.

“I’m your coach, I do what’s best for you,” Junhui retorted, bending backwards into the water to dip his hair into the water. "Plus, this baby is waterproof."

Wonwoo flinched at the sight of tense, golden muscles.

“Did you really have to do that?” Wonwoo muttered under his breath.

Oh, so Hansu was right. Pretty boys were a weakness of his. Two could play this game. Junhui smiled innocently. “Did you say something?”

“Whatever,” Wonwoo huffed, wadding over to the waterfall and standing under it, looking like a drowned puppy.

“I was thinking,” Junhui said. “We should go out to Arirang Garden today, celebrate the start of training, you know?”

“We started training three weeks ago,” Wonwoo deadpanned, getting out of the waterfall.

“So?” Junhui said with a smile. “It’ll be my treat,” he offered, eyes looking way too innocent for the naked man.

Wonwoo sighed, he has been stressed lately. A night out would help. “Sure, why not?” Wonwoo crumpled, finally relenting. “It's not going to kill me or anything.”


	2. Icy Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonwoo can't deal with feelings and his lil' bro is the one with relationship advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my Valentine's present to ya'll! (yes, i'm from the country side)  
> never mind that its valentine evening and that i haven't washed my hair for a week and that i have a us history test friday and i haven't read any of the chapters.... oh well  
> fun fact: mingyu is taking one a yuko/takeshi character (b/c i couldn't decide on a couple) the triplets are the poodles... more characters to come yay

Well, Wonwoo didn’t get die, but he was pretty sure he gained fifteen pounds and a dead liver. He was usually responsible with his alcohol and calorie intake, but Junhui was just so damn persuasive

After a few rounds of sizzling meat, Junhui ordered a couple shots of soju along with the lava cake. Wonwoo gladly took most of the cake and more than half of the shots, getting absolutely drunk off his mind.

Junhui stared at him across the table, watching him shove the last of the meat down his throat, washing it down with another shot and mouthful of cake. “Where does it all go?” he asked, poking Wonwoo’s ribs. “You’re as skinny as me, yet you eat twice as much.”

Wonwoo looked up blearily from scraping the last bits of cake from the bowl, eyes obviously have trouble focusing on the man in front of him. “I burn off half of my calories in my resting bitch face and when I always try and fail to beat your scores.” he deadpanned.

Apparently, Wonwoo was an angry drunk.

“Well, I can help you beat my scores,” Junhui pointed out, smiling as if the thought of his world record being broken didn't faze him.

“Yeah, sure,” Wonwoo mumbled groggily, taking another shot. “You would totally stoop low enough for a failure like me.” Wonwoo threw his head back laughing. “I can’t believe they trusted me to fill Yuna’s shoes. The best damn figure skater of all time and then I come in.”

Junhui handed his card to the waitress and scooted over to sit next to Wonwoo who had his head on the table. “I didn’t expect you to be such an emotional drunk,” Junhui absentmindedly observed.

 “Of course not,” he bitterly laughed. “You don’t fucking know me; I’m just some damn charity case for you while you recover. I was and will never on your fucking radar.” Junhui sighed and scooted next to Wonwoo, slowly patting his shoulder. Junhui never knew that was the perspective of other skaters.

He breathed in. Junhui was in the spotlight since the beginning, oblivious to the insults and scowls from the other young competitors as eager microphones were shoved into his face; he couldn’t imagine how frustrated Wonwoo felt.

Wonwoo looked up to see Junhui’s eyes staring holes into him. His eyes softened and shakily reached up and traced a finger down the side of Junhui’s face. “But your eyes look like lava cake, so sweet and beautiful,” he whispered, eyes low and rough, sounding borderline sexual. “Kind of like you, so pretty and nice, nothing like the rumors,” came the whisper of a confession.

Junhui held in a gasp, eyes wide.  He brushed the hair out of Wonwoo’s hazy eyes. “Wonwoo?”

“I’m no good for you,” he slurred, trying to grab at Junhui’s fingers before knocking out right then and there, leaving Junhui with a dead weight to lug all the way home.

* * *

 

Wonwoo awoke to a painfully bright stream of light peeping through the blue curtains. Wonwoo hated those blue curtains, made with thin, wispy material that did nothing to block the sun out. But luckily, his parents only put blue in the guest rooms. His room had nice black curtains, nothing like those shitty gossamer sheets.

Wonwoo laid a couple more seconds before realization his. He shot straight up on the bed, pain instantly flooding throughout his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and sunk back down into bed, massaging his temples.

“Hey, hey,” Junhui’s soft voice filled his ear as a soft palm placed something small in his hand. “I brought you painkillers.”

Wonwoo sat up slowly, leaning back on his pillow and cracked one eye open. Junhui’s worried etched face appeared in front of him, dressed in training gear. Even like that, he looked hot.

“You rascal,” he chided softly. “You had me worried there.” Junhui handed him a glass of water.

Wonwoo groaned as he swallowed the pill, willing the relief to come faster. “Where am I?”

“Um, my room,” Junhui replied, face tinging a slight pink. “You passed out after too many shots, so I brought you here.”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at Junhui, who slightly flinched under the intensity of it. “You could have left me in my room. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

Junhui winced, fisting the cotton sheets. “I am your coach; I have a liability to make sure you’re healthy.”

“Oh, come on,” Wonwoo groaned, both from exasperation and pain. “That’s bull. I’m just your charity case; you don’t give a flying fuck about me or any one of your competitors. You only care about yourself.”

Once those words left Wonwoo’s mouth, Junhui flinched like a bucket of cold water was thrown onto him. Hurt flashed in Junhui’s eyes before his face hardened.

“You think you know me so well?” Junhui asked, eyes stone cold, blinking away unshed tears.

Wonwoo gripped the bedsheets, head pounding. He had never seen Junhui act like this before, and the headache wasn't helping at all. He could only blink sluggishly.

“Look at you,” Junhui accused, eyes ablaze in fury. “So vulnerable to peer pressure and was blackout drunk just from me batting my fucking eyelashes. Maybe you should take a look at yourself.” Junhui’s voice was cracking. He whipped around and grabbed his discarded warmup jacket, tugging it on harshly. “If you need me, which you probably don’t, I’ll be at the rink where actual skaters are.”

Then Wonwoo was left with the slammed door ringing painfully in his ears and a regretful taste in his mouth. That was some way to start the morning.

When the aspirin finally kicked in, Wonwoo drug himself out of bed, trying to avoid staring at the bright light. He gave a quick glance at himself in the mirror: disgusting, just as he thought he would look like. Fluffing up his greasy hair, he reluctantly walked to the kitchen in hopes for some fatty hangover food.

Wonwoo squinted; he hated how the modern style of their kitchen allowed in all the bright light. The designer apparently has never had a long night. He stumbled blindly around the kitchen for a couple seconds before his brother kindly shut the blinds.

“Long night?” Bohyuk asked as Wonwoo laid his head on the cool marble island, feeling a bit less pain.

“Something like that,” Wonwoo grumbled, stomach growling for something substantial: aka not lava cake or soju shots.

Bohyuk rummaged around in the fridge for a second and pulled out a small container of clear broth with pieces of vegetables and bits of meat floating around. “Junhui made _Haejangguk_ for you.” He poured the ‘hangover soup’ into a bowl and placed it in the microwave; the soft hum of the microwave almost pleasing to Wonwoo’s sensitive ears.

“He woke me up in the middle of the night for help. I don’t know why he asked me, someone who can’t even drink, for help,” Bohyuk explained, pulling the steamy bowl out of the microwave and placed it front of his brother. “For you, princess.”

Bohyuk took a seat next to Wonwoo, staring at his mess of a brother as Wonwoo tried to drink tiny spoonfuls without burning himself.

Wonwoo looked up, squinting his eyes at Bohyuk. He had never noticed how much Bohyuk looked like him. Between school and training, this was the first time in a long time he has actually sat down with his brother for a meal; always eating in between practices or heading straight to the hot springs and then right to his bed. Bohyuk had grown up well, as a matter of fact, taking after many of Wonwoo’s own features. Wonwoo almost wished he hadn’t taken up figure skating so he could he actually see his brother grow up.

“What are you looking at?” Bohyuk asked, squinting right back at his brother, munching on some leftovers.

“You’ve grown up so much,” Wonwoo wistfully stated, reaching out and tugging on the dark hair that matched his own so well. “When did you dye your hair back from blonde?” He hated how he couldn’t remember when his own little brother literally changed his hair color. What a great brother he was.

“A month ago, actually. It was a week after you came back.” Bohyuk responded, sounding almost hurt. Wonwoo flinched, he didn’t want to piss off another guy he cared about.

But he didn’t blame Bohyuk though. Wonwoo just wasn’t in the picture anymore; always too busy at international competition, training in America, or schooling. His presence back in the family’s Oncheon was almost foreign, both for his family and Wonwoo.

“So what happened with you and Junhui?” Bohyuk asked, turning the subject onto Wonwoo. “He ran out of here pretty upset.”

Wonwoo winced as he slurped up the last bit of _Haejangguk_ , guiltily staring at the bowl. The man had stayed up late, making sure Wonwoo had something good to eat after Wonwoo decided to fuck his body up with all the junk. And all Wonwoo did was freak out and yell at Junhui in return. “We had a bit of a fight,” Wonwoo said, trying to swallow his guilt.

“Some fight,” Bohyuk yawned. “Woke me up and when I went to check on you guys, Junhui looked seconds away from crying.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asked. He didn’t think he was that mean.

“Yeah,” Bohyuk nodded, slipping off the stool and padded over to one of the stray cats that roamed into the inn because Bohyuk was such a sucker for cats. Now several of them roamed around the property, always arriving at the doorstep for Bohyuk to feed them leftover meat. The cats were basically Bohyuk’s by how much he cared for them. “I hate rumors as much as you do, but you really are the Ice King. Sometimes you’re a real bitch.”

Wonwoo’s mouth dropped open. “When did you start cursing?”

“How long ago did you leave for America for training? No wait, it was the second time when you left for school.” Bohyuk asked snarkily.

Wonwoo held his hands up. “Okay, okay I get it.”

“Look, Wonwoo,” Bohyuk explained, rubbing the fluffy fur of the cat. “You can’t blame me; you’ve been out of my life ever since I was little for ice skating. I’m not mad, but when you actually stay at the Oncheon for more than a couple days, all you bitch about if Wen Junhui this and Wen Junhui that. And I know you secretly have his posters. They’re in the box under your bed with your Kim Yuna autographed shirt.”

“Hey!” Wonwoo exclaimed, face turning a bright red. “Why were you in my room?”

“I wanted to steal those shoes one of your fans gave you, anyways,” Bohyuk shrugged off. “You literally have Junhui as your coach: your idol/weird crush. I get it that you're an icy bitch that can’t deal with feelings, but I think you’re making a big mistake by trying to be a badass with no feelings.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Are you trying to give me relationship advice? That’s my job!” Wonwoo exclaimed, looks like Junhui’s cooking made him feel a lot better.

Bohyuk just smiled and let the cat go. “Just listen bro. I know you have the hots for Junhui, but if you don’t want to confess, that’s fine, but fix this mess you fucked up. He’s at the rink. Think about it,” Bohyuk offered with a toothy grin.

Wonwoo was feeling a million times better as the pounding in his head died down as he sat under the warm spray of the shower, mulling over his baby brother’s advice. Never would he think he would actually need the advice of his brother. Maybe his brother had meet someone. Wonwoo made a note to bother Bohyuk over dating next time.

Before Wonwoo realized what he was doing, he had dried off and put on acceptable clothing and was jogging down the stone path to the rink. One of the Oncheon cats pattering behind him.

His running partner soon got distracted by a butterfly, and Wonwoo was left alone to run in peace, searching in his mind for an acceptable apology. As he reached the rink, three poodles ran out of the rink tackling Junhui to the ground, effectively covering his face in slobber.

“Oh no,” a familiar voice gasped. Soon the dogs were pulled of Wonwoo and restrained by a large man. “Wonwoo!” he exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How’s professionally skating?”

Wonwoo finally got his bearings together and stood up, staring at his tan childhood best friend. “Great Mingyu!” Wonwoo greeted happily. “I see you finally got around to adopting your furry babies. Are they triplets?”

“Yeah, meet Axel, Lutz, and Loop,” Mingyu nodded. “So I heard you’ve trained here for the best couple of weeks with Junhui. Sorry I haven’t been around; I’m opening another rink in Seoul.”

“That’s great,” Wonwoo said, stepping inside the rink. It brought back waves of memories when he skated as a child. Mingyu had been the first one to take up skating as his parents owned the rink, and Wonwoo immediately followed, looking up at the younger boy. Mingyu never was a competitive skater like Wonwoo was, and Wonwoo soon saw less and less of his best friend.

Axel barked lightly. “Well, the babies want to go out on a run,” Mingyu laughed. “It was nice seeing you again!”

Wonwoo waved back at Mingyu, taking a deep breath. Time to face Junhui.

He pushed open the doors to the ice, the crisp, cool air filling his nostrils. It was great being back at his second home. Sharp blades slicing through ice made clean creases as Junhui slid across the ice; the smooth scraping familiar to Wonwoo.

Junhui hadn’t noticed Wonwoo yet and propelled his body across the ice, one leg kicking himself up before landing on the opposite foot, the other leg sticking straight out, even the toes pointed, as he spun his body around three revolutions before slowing down.

Honestly, Junhui had done more impressive spins and jumps, but the cast on his arm hindered his abilities. He really wasn't supposed to be on the ice, but had persuaded the doctored for a lighter cast, allowing Junhui to sneak onto the ice when the ice itch came up. Despite that, Wonwoo stood there in awe of the fluidity and grace of the skater. Junhui was the literal definition of an ice dancer: dancing on ice.

Wonwoo was knocked out of his fanboying when Junhui’s skates scraped the ice as he stopped at the edge of the rink, looking at Wonwoo.

The sight of Junhui sent pang of guilt and shame straight to his gut. It was very obvious that Junhui had shed some tears and rubbed at his eyes. Combined with the red tipped nose from the cold air, the sight was pitiful and another wave of guilt coursed through Wonwoo’s body.

“Hi,” Junhui greeted coolly, fingers tugging at the end of his Olympic jacket.

Wonwoo gulped. “Can we talk?” he feebly asked. Wonwoo was never comfortable in apologizing, ignoring the problem like any adult would and hoping it would go away. But he had to put his big boy panties on if he wanted to become a Grand Prix Finalists.

Junhui nodded and skated over to an opening to take his skates off. Wonwoo walked over there, thinking to himself what he should say. Junhui had sat on the bench, patting the space next to him. He looked surprisingly calm and collected, though his eyes were red-rimmed. Wonwoo tentatively sat down; it was like walking on knives.

“Um,” Wonwoo scratched the back of his head. “I really don’t know how to say this, but, um. Oh God, look, I think that… No wait.”

Junhui watched Wonwoo flounder around for words; it was pretty funny, to be quite honest. A smile cracked onto his face.

“So I'm trying say, um, wait,” Wonwoo said, finally stopping his rambling. “Are you smiling?”

Junhui’s small grin broke out even more, showing off all of his teeth. “You really don’t know how to apologize.”

“I know,” Wonwoo narrowed his eyebrows defensively. “Don’t make fun of me.”

Junhui lightly shoved Wonwoo. “Oh well, I forgive you, even if you didn’t actually apologize.”

“Why?” Not that Wonwoo minded or anything. Saves him from another awkward situation.

“Well, you actually tried to apologize. That means something,” Junhui pointed out, grabbing Wonwoo’s practice bag. Apparently Junhui was a very prepared coach. “Get your skates on, we got a record to beat!”

Wonwoo happily obliged, stuffing his feet into the skates. “Wait, so I don’t need to do anything for you?”

A cheeky smile crept onto Junhui’s face. “Now that you mention it…”

Dread filled Wonwoo. “I want a meal out and a spa day at the Oncheon with you as my personal servant,” Junhui happily stated, even giving a little hop. It was almost vomit worthy about how cute Junhui could act sometimes.

But it was alright. Wonwoo was happy to have a coach that cared for him, besides, he wasn’t too mad at the idea of spending a whole day with his idol.

Never mind the warm feeling bubbling in his chest whenever Junhui smiled at him. He had a medal to win.           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scream with me on [tumblr](http://minimumobsession.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	3. Icy Ardor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little man finally knows how it feels to fall for someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the late update, junior year is so busy and there was the lack of feedback so i sort of lost the motivation to write for a while....sorry  
> fun fact: i almost typed poodles as poopdles and i laughed because my life is sad  
> idk when the next update will be because i have college trips coming up and then ap testing AAAAAAAAAAAAH  
> fun fact 2.0: i'm trying to pull a nisakomi and actually write a one shot that is over 50k (probably not even going to reach 30k, but it's okay) so theres that (i'm trying out a new writing style in that fic so idk)  
> thanks for reading and leave kudos and comments!!

The deep sighs of pleasure and blissed-out look on Junhui’s made everything almost worth it--almost being the key word. Wonwoo grabbed a discarded towel and wiped the sweat off his face. Though his inner fanboy was going batshit crazy, the ‘normal’ side of him wanted to slap the fuck out of the skater laying in front of him; all the goodies covered by a small towel.

“A little to the left, my shoulder’s a bit sore,” Junhui complained, shifting on the white cot. Wonwoo grumbled, but obliged, moving his nimble fingers to the shoulder blade, massaging the tense muscles.

After Junhui had gotten his cast removed, he had demanded the spa day and dinner date that he said Wonwoo owed him. And now Wonwoo was stuck in the sauna, wearing the Oncheon's uncomfortable cotton uniforms that stuck in the grossest spots from his excessive sweating. He had already stripped off his shirt, but the cotton pants dug uncomfortably into his waist. He was tempted to strip nude, but decided to save some of his dignity.

Their relationship was a lot less strained after Wonwoo ‘apologized’. It became friendlier and less like a coach-student relationship. Friendly banters were becoming the norm, and Wonwoo was finally getting up there with his jumps skills just from how playful Junhui acted during their training sessions. Having Junhui as a coach didn’t suck that much.

“So I was thinking we could go to that new Chinese place,” Junhui said as Wonwoo dug his fingers into an especially tense patch of muscles, feeling the muscles slowly relax. “I’m feeling a bit homesick now.”

“Well, I have to do whatever you want today,” Wonwoo grumbled, finally relenting to the heat and stripped off his pants. It wasn’t like nudity was an outlandish thing; growing up with public baths had made public nudity a social norm for Wonwoo. Besides Junhui was naked too, under the towel of course.

“Not my fault you decided to act like a dick,” Junhui sang happily.

“Whatever,” Wonwoo grumbled and threw his hands off of the smooth back. “My fingers are sore; I’m going on strike.”

Junhui sat up, lazily shrugging his shoulders. “No matter, get dressed skater boy, my tummy’s grumbling.”

It took all his willpower and prayer to every God known to Wonwoo for his eyes stay above the belt. But how many other fans would have killed to be in the spot he was in right now? A fuck ton.

And Wonwoo wanted to be fucked tons right now.

Just the sight of clothed Junhui made men and women alike scream in hormonal rage, let alone fully naked Junhui. Fans freaked at over the slightest glimpse of Junhui’s abs when he practiced in a loose black tee. Kicking a leg so high, his shirt would fly up, revealing that amazing golden skin.

Now to see Junhui flaunting what his mama gave him, Wonwoo swore he was going to suffer from a heart attack soon. Junhui just looked like he was sculpted from the hands of God: sun-kissed, golden skin, slender and lithe body, just enough hair to make him look manly and not Neanderthal. It was basically a blessing from God.

“Close your mouth and stop drooling pretty boy,” Junhui teased, grabbing the towel and slung it over his backside. Junhui was definitely not a prude.

Wonwoo stayed back, watching the man’s smooth backside sway in front of him. Junhui was totally not strutting, was he? Mentally slapping himself, Wonwoo calmed his fanboy hormones and grabbed the horrible uniform and followed the man into the locker rooms. Maybe a cold shower would wake him up from this hormone-filled state.

The cold shower kind of worked. The horny hormones were no longer buzzing around his body, but clothed Junhui was just a different story. Naked Junhui was “call me daddy”, while clothed Junhui was “I am a daddy.”

Wonwoo couldn’t count the amount of posters and magazines that featured Junhui he had in his room, but he did know that Junhui in white tees and fitted slacks or brightly colored shorts with button ups combined with suspenders and glasses was literal daddy goals; both sexual and parental.

Outfitted in salmon (not pink) khakis and a plain white button up with his hair oh-so deliciously pushed back, Wonwoo swore a nose bleed was going to come soon, and the only thought in his mind was: Be the father to my children.

“So I already made reservations,” Junhui started, causally linking arms with Wonwoo and tugging him along. “Don’t worry, I won’t eat too much. I promise the bill will be much cheaper than the one at the barbeque place.”

Wonwoo thought the wink at the end was totally unnecessary as he blushed a bright red. “That wasn’t one of my best moments in life.”

“I could tell,” Junhui laughed, almost skipping as he tugged them down the path leading into town.

It was almost like a date, Wonwoo thought wistfully as they walked down the stone path together. The sun was setting, painting the sky with beautiful inky blues and bright pinks and deep purples. People laughed down on the beach as little children ran around in the sand, kicking sand behind them. Everything was amazing and peaceful; it was almost like Wonwoo didn’t have the heavy weight of the Grand Prix hanging on his shoulders; like a carefree, young man finally allowing himself to fall in love.

Not that he was falling in love, not yet anyways.

He ignored the thump-thump of his heart and followed the excitable man who had let go of Wonwoo’s arm and climbed the stone half-walls dividing the beach from the path, throwing out his arms to balance himself on the slippery stone.

“Get down, you’re going to fall,” Wonwoo chided, watching the skater carefully balance himself and take small steps forward.

“I’ll be fine, Wonwoo,” Junhui said, taking a few more steps. “Besides, you’ll catch me if I fall, right?”

“I’m not your mother,” Wonwoo responded, but they both knew that was a definite yes.

And if on cue, Junhui’s flimsy canvas sneakers lost grip on the smooth surface and he could only let out an unattractive, high-pitched yip before he followed the course of gravity. Wonwoo rushed over, holding out his arms, feeling the soft body drop into his arms. He wrapped his arms around Junhui, mentally cursing.

“You fucking idiot,” he mumbled, staring down at the man who just blinked owlishly up at him.

“Thanks,” Junhui replied sheepishly, face flushing a slight pink.

Too bad Junhui was just the right mixture of cute, hot, and beautiful, and Wonwoo couldn’t get mad. Just hugging him closer, not caring about the intimacy of the situation. “You gave me a fucking heart attack,” Wonwoo scolded the man, finally letting go of Junhui.

“You say fucking too much when you’re angry,” Junhui pointed out, ignoring what Wonwoo thought was Junhui’s near death experience.

“Whatever,” Wonwoo mumbled, pulling Junhui by the arm like a frustrated mother would to a child. “Let’s just get this date over with.”

They both ignored how the word date slipped out so easily.

* * *

 

If you do not sit the fuck down, I will throw away your fucking ice cream.”

“You’re not my mother and stop with the fucking. You need a chill pill!”

Wonwoo sighed just shoveled a spoonful of mango ice cream in his mouth as Junhui jumped around him, singing some Chinese children’s song. Despite Junhui’s outer appearance, he was a literal child, getting extremely hyper off a small cup of ice cream.

“You know you love me,” Junhui sang, doing a handstand and walking around on his hands.

It took all Wonwoo’s willpower to not kick Junhui over.

At least Junhui kept his promise and the bill at the restaurant was low, but he regretted taking Junhui to his favorite ice cream place. If alcohol made Wonwoo a complete idiot, ice cream was Junhui’s alcohol. Wonwoo started to doubt whether the man in front of him tumbling around the deserted park was older than him and a Grand Prix champion who set many world records.

Junhui was often called the next Yuzuru Hanyu, but Junhui singing in Mandarin at the top of his lungs with ice cream on his nose contradicted that title.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Wonwoo said, throwing his empty cup inside a trash can.

“Only if you give me a piggy back ride,” Junhui grumbled, wiping the ice cream off his nose.

Wonwoo sighed. “Fine, only because I want to go sleep before we spend six hours at the rink again.”

Junhui cheered and ran to hop on Wonwoo’s back. Well, at least Wonwoo was getting some cardio in.

* * *

 “Stop, stop.”

Wonwoo turned his skates to stop, ice spraying up onto his pants. It was the fifth time Junhui stopped his free skate, and Wonwoo was getting frustrated. “What did I do this time?” he barked, letting his temper get the best of him.

“You just look so technical and stiff. There’s no passion.”

“That sounds stupid,” Wonwoo retorted, sticking his tongue out.

“I think we should scrap the whole thing,” Junhui said, gliding over to Wonwoo. “Every year you do something aggressive, last year was assertive and the year before was destructive. I think you should do something new.”

“What? Like love?” Wonwoo scoffed.

Junhui brightened up. “Yeah! You could delve into the more intimate part of love and really show off that sexuality.”

Wonwoo blinked. Being sexy was never on his radar; it was the side of him he was not comfortable showing off. They were still plenty early in the season so a new program wouldn’t be too harmful, but finding passion in love? That was a foreign thought to Wonwoo.

“Well, practice is finished today so I can come up with a routine, and tomorrow, we can just plan your song,” Junhui spoke up, skating to the sidelines to take his skates off. “Find what sparks your ardor.”

Ardor.

His passion. What was he passionate about?

It was something that made a warm feeling buzz in his chest.

Junhui.

It was something he had been devoted to ever since he started skating.

Junhui.

It was something that made the fervor intensify.

Junhui.

Wonwoo frowned. There had to be something else that wasn’t Junhui.

“Chocolate!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scream with me on [tumblr](http://minimumobsession.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	4. Icy Cowardice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonwoo's found his ardor, but what about his confidence?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sooooooo sorry about the month long wait for a update, and i'm sorry to say the next chapter will probably be like that since may is the month of standardized tests :(  
> i plan on having 2-3 more chapters and maybe an epilougue   
> fun fact: i went on college trips and am scared of adulting  
> i'm going to try to update at least once before june (but i have like a two week thing so there's going to be long waits in summer too)  
> i still love writing wonhui, but the busy-ness of everything just encourages writer's block  
> (leave kudos and comments!)

Wonwoo’s face was still burning in embarrassment as he stood under the warm spray of the shower. Yes, it was a pity shower. He still couldn’t believe that he blurted out chocolate. Whose passion in life is chocolate? People called their lovers ardor, not fucking chocolate. Second-hand embarrassment washed through his body again and he tried scrubbing it away with his short nails and suds. He did have a shower-debate of if Junhui would have been a better answer, but that would've made things really, really awkward, like more awkward than Wonwoo’s life. He groaned again before stepping out of the shower and dried himself off. Besides, their relationship was mostly one-sided; Junhui didn’t like him like Wonwoo did.

Skinny, pale legs matched the white towel, and Wonwoo pulled up a pair of black boxers. His life was absolute shit---he had locked himself in his room after the incident and was nursing a large bar of chocolate. Ironic, huh?

Only pulling up a pair of gray sweatpants, he exited, too tired of staring at his shitty appearance in the bathroom mirror; he had a date with his bed and the rest of that chocolate bar, but was met with a head full of chocolate hair poking out under the thick, duvet laid neatly on his bed.

Bright eyes greeted the half-naked man as he grinned stupidly from his spot under Wonwoo’s covers. “Hey, Wonwoo! You took a long shower,” the skater stated, sitting up and pulling the covers up around him. “This is totally off topic, but your brother gave me a sample of the music you worked on in college and I love it.”

“Bohyuk gave you Passion?” Wonwoo asked blankly. Why was his cringy music obsession coming back to haunt him? Even cringier was the fucking cheesy name he gave that piece when he was going his emo/romantic phase. Don’t ask how that works; it’s complicated. “How did that come up?”

“I’ve been trying to choreograph your short dance to that piece Coach Hansu recommended, but it just sounded so boring,” Junhui replied, heavily drawing out the syllables. “So I asked Bohyuk what music I should use, and he gave me your piece! I already choreographed the first half, but I’m saving the quads for the last half. You have great stamina to jump really high at the end.”

Wonwoo could only manage out a weak, “What?” And how did Bohyuk even get his hands on the music?

“You know, if you weren’t such a great skater, you could totally be the next big producer in Korea! I bet all the companies wanted to sign you.”

Wonwoo was taken aback by these compliments. This whole situation was absolutely bizarre and only occurred in his shower scenarios. Music had always been second after he had gotten into figure skating competitively, and he didn’t think he was that good at either. And to have his longtime idol compliment both his music and his skating was absolutely weird, and Wonwoo didn’t like the tingly feeling spreading up and down his bodies as the butterflies went crazy in his stomach.

“Bohyuk told me that even your professors wanted to submit them to SM and YG, and all those companies. You’re a pretty impressive guy, Wonwoo, I have to admit.”

“I’m not that great,” Wonwoo said meekly. Those were all lies that made were supposed to make him feel better. His best friend Jihoon had taught him everything; he was the one who plotted out the basics of Passion before letting Wonwoo take full control--Passion was basically Jihoon’s baby with Wonwoo’s name stamped all over it.

Junhui frowned, sliding out from under the covers. He pulled Wonwoo’s hand so they could sit next to each other; face to face.

“For a guy who looks so badass, you really don’t have any confidence.”

Wonwoo blinked. Confidence? He had confidence, maybe not in skating or producing or his physical appearance or… He had some confidence, somewhere.

“I’ve watched your performances, and the technical aspects are great, Wonwoo. But your creativity and emotions are somewhat lacking,” Junhui pointed out, fingers grasping tighter on Wonwoo’s pale wrist. “You need to look at the audience like they're your next chocolate bar,” he said, holding up Wonwoo’s half-eaten chocolate bar.

Wonwoo smiled sheepishly. Mingyu had made many comments about the way Wonwoo looked at chocolate; one being a picture posted on Instagram with the caption: Get you a man who looks at you like Wonwoo looks at chocolate. It was absolutely humiliating as the picture of Wonwoo staring lovingly at a lava cake was shared to everyone online.

Junhui moved his lips close to Wonwoo, he could feel each brush of those soft lips on the shell of his ear. “Seduce me like I’m on of your chocolate bars.”

Wonwoo almost fainted.

* * *

 

“Yes, yes!” Junhui cheered as Wonwoo brought his leg around to spin his body for a triple loop before fluidly transitioning into a simple single loop. “Beautiful!”

Wonwoo couldn’t stop the grin from spreading onto his face at the praise from the bouncing man across the rink; black scarf wrapped all the way up to his chin, giving the impression of a small child. He skated over to Junhui, adrenaline and the strange feeling of confidence flowing through his veins. Is this what confidence feels like?

“I want to try quads,” he stated as soon as he reached the end, brightly staring into Junhui’s eyes; his cheeks red from the simple run-through of his short skate. It was pretty good run-through, considering Wonwoo’s tendency to cringe into his body whenever Passion played through the speakers. “Teach me.”

And it didn’t make him feel any better when the assignments were posted just last week, and anxiety now ate up Wonwoo’s inside a heck of a lot more, even though his first assignment was in four months.

Junhui cocked his head, confused. Despite the somewhat shitty performance at the last Grand Prix, Wonwoo had, in fact, landed his toe loop quad; unfortunately, it was the only jump he had successfully landed. And he couldn’t grasp why Wonwoo was insecure about his abilities.

“I guess you can try, but I think your quads are great, and I don't feel like I have to teach you more skills.”

“But I haven’t landed any of them,” Wonwoo protested, digging the toe of his blade into the ice, knowing that wasn’t good for the ice.

Junhui stared over at him, pushing open the gate and sliding onto the ice. With graceful, fluid movements, he arrived next to him in a dancer-like fashion, concern written all over his face.

Warm, glove covered fingers thumbed at the fleshy part of Wonwoo’s cheek. The atmosphere was shifting to a very intimate one and Wonwoo did not know how he felt about it. “Wonwoo,” he sighed, chiding the man as if he were Wonwoo’s mother. “We have got to work on that confidence.”

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo whispered. He didn’t know why he was whispering, but the air around him was getting hot, and he felt like the only noises were supposed to be quiet ones. Well, that’s what he assumed from years of watching K-dramas, and crying after the love confessions.

Junhui cocked his head, smiling with a childish gleam to his eyes as his right hand stayed glued to Wonwoo’s cheek, comfortingly rubbing the fleshy chub on Wonwoo’s cheek. “You say you’re bad at quads, but you landed it at the last Grand Prix. Your form is great and people always remark on the height and intensity of your jumps. Heck, people have referenced you as being the male Yuna Kim. Wonwoo, you’re an amazing skater. Be as confident in yourself as I am as confident about you.”

Wonwoo’s ears burned and he hoped Mingyu wasn't planning on poking his head through the door to ask if they want victory Tteok-bokki. “It isn’t that easy Junhui,” Wonwoo replied, head hanging down. Confidence was never his middle name. “I’m just average.”

Junhui’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Fine,” he muttered, letting of Wonwoo. “If you won’t believe in yourself, I guess you’ll have to prove it to yourself. Wonwoo give me toe loop quad right now.”

Wonwoo blinked. The sudden attitude change scared him. “What do you mean?”

Junhui just stared at Wonwoo, unblinking, cool stare making Wonwoo feel a bit uneasy. “I’m your coach. Do as I say Wonwoo,” Junhui coolly responded. “Do a quad toe loop, right now.”

“Junhui, you know, I can’t,” Wonwoo stuttered out. “I just can’t.” His gloved-fingers dug into the hem of his jacket. Anxiety was eating the insides of Wonwoo and he felt like was going to throw up.

“Wonwoo,” Junhui’s voice was laced with frigid anger. Wonwoo had never seen Junhui like this before. “Show me a quad toe loop. Do you want me to be your coach? Because it looks like you can’t even obey a simple command.”

The rink seemed to have dropped a few degrees. Even though Wonwoo’s face burned bright red, he was shivering as he started to skate to the edge of the rink, gulping down a couple of breaths. His hands shook as his fingers outstretched in an attempt to steady himself. He gripped the side before taking one last breath and turned around. He took off, shaky muscles pushed him across the rink at the speed he was known for.

“Tighten the core,” was the only advice from the stoic coach, and it did not make Wonwoo feel any better. The icy glare that marred Junhui’s face made Wonwoo miss the playful and goofy grins on Junhui’s face when he was happy. It was like when Wonwoo fucked up earlier in their relationship; the pit in his stomach grew and weighed him down. How was he supposed to do a quad like this?

When he reached the middle, he got ready and used his back foot to push himself off the ice, spinning wildly in the air. He was too dizzy to count the rotations before he instinctively snapped his body close, tightening his legs and arms around him ass his body finished the last rotation.

Wonwoo tilted backwards, landing softly on his back foot, other leg whipping out along with his arms to throw his body back into balance.

His breaths came out in deep puffs as he slowed down, adding in a small twirl on both skates as a big grin spread onto his face. All he heard was the blood pumping through his veins and the triumphant cheering of Junhui in the background; it was absolutely exhilarating.

The clean, carving sound of the Junhui’s skate echoed in his ear before a weight crashed into him, and lean arms tightened around him.

“I knew you could do it!” Junhui happily exclaimed, smushing his face into Wonwoo’s cheek. Wonwoo’s arms awkwardly held his arms out before slowly circling around his coach, pulling Junhui flush against him. “I’m sorry I had to play mean coach, but you just didn’t believe in yourself. And look!” Junhui released Wonwoo, stretching his arms out towards Wonwoo as if he was showing the pale skater off. “You fucking did it! I’m so happy, I could kiss you.”

The rink instantly got a few degrees warmer, and Wonwoo pulled at the collar of his sweater. Awkward silence filled the frigid air.

Wonwoo coughed. This was his chance. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you did,” he admitted sheepishly, resting all his weight on the back of his skates, a deep blush spreading up his neck.

Junhui smirked. “Okay,” he whispered, sliding to slot himself between Wonwoo’s spread legs. Soft, warm lips grazed his lips before moving left to press a small peck on his cheek. “There’s more where that came from.... if you make it to the Grand Prix.”

And with that, Junhui spun on his left blade with the grace of a ballerina and skated out of the rink, calling over his shoulder, “Let’s end practice now. I want to hang out later. Just the two of us, you get me?”

Wonwoo couldn’t hear anything other than the beat of his pounding heart as he stared at the retreating figure. He had fallen so hard and now he definitely couldn’t get out.

* * *

 

Wonwoo squirmed again, trying to get comfortable in the small space. His long legs ate up the limited space, and Junhui had fallen asleep very cutely on his shoulder.

The agonizing months of long practices had built up to this day.

The plane rattled from turbulence as he replayed Passion, trying to get used to the small tweaks Jihoon made to it for a ‘smoother flow’ as Jihoon called it. Junhui smacked his lips.

“Stop moving you dumb slug,” the man mumbled, moving his head closer to the crook of Wonwoo’s neck, chocolate hair tickling Wonwoo’s neck. Those petal pink lips were getting pretty close to the pale skin of Wonwoo’s neck, and he gulped. “I’m sleepy.”

“The flight to China isn’t even that long,” Wonwoo weakly protested, watching the little animated plane on the screen inch closer and closer to Beijing. They had only flown for an hour and were already halfway there.

“I like my sleep,” Junhui muttered, moving his fingers to grip Wonwoo’s arm to keep it still. Wonwoo grumbled, but obliged to his precious couch, slouching over so Junhui’s squashed cheek was balanced comfortably on his bony shoulder.

“You know,” Junhui spoke up, eyes still squeezed shut. “The Cup of China has some fierce competition. You have my rink mate, Minghao, who’s an Olympic medalist and Daniel Samohin who’s basically a quad master. You’re just lucky Jin Boyang sprained his ankle last week because he set a lot of world records for quads.”

“Thanks for that reassurance, Coach,” Wonwoo mumbled, impatiently tapping his left index finger. Anticipation bubbled in his chest as the looming pressure of his performance in the Cup of China darkened over his head. Wonwoo felt like he was going to throw up.

It was almost like Junhui sensed the storm brewing inside of Wonwoo and he sat up.

“Wonwoo,” he whispered, his eyes gazing deeply into what Wonwoo felt like was his soul. “You’ll be fine. I know it.”

Wonwoo really wanted to believe that. He really did.

“Hey bitch.”

Wonwoo turned to the speaker, not expecting such a ‘warm’ welcome on their first step into China. A small man leaned against the wall, brown hair flopped over his eyebrows and eyes as sharp as a feline’s. He also did not also expect Junhui to throw up his arms and scream in excitement.

“Minghao! You came to meet us,” he cheered. It was almost comical to see the larger man look so happy embracing the smaller who had a glare that could cut a bitch.

“Yeah, yeah,” Minghao brushed off, shrugging out of the tight embrace of Junhui, looking thoroughly annoyed, but a spark of brotherly love shone in his eyes for a split second. “You know when I sent you that video of this dork skating, you weren’t supposed to ditch me and fly to Korea with your dick out.”

“Yeah, but he’s so cute,” Junhui laughed, slapping Minghao on the back. Wonwoo, the awkward person he was, stood off to the side, watching this encounter as he squeezed the straps of his backpack. He chewed on his lip and bounced from one foot to the other.

“Whatever,” Minghao blew off. “At least I’m not the one who completely bombed my performance.”

Junhui’s warm presence suddenly turned ice cold and his hand slinked to grasp Wonwoo’s fingers. “Minghao,” he spoke sternly as if he were a mother chastising her child. Awkwardly, Wonwoo flexed his fingers, trying to silently convey that Minghao insult didn’t hurt him. It was just as harsh as his insecurities; nothing new. “Good luck on your performance,” came the short response and Wonwoo was suddenly pulled into a waiting taxi.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Wonwoo whispered, playing with the straps of his backpack, avoiding eye contact with the man. “I’ve heard worse.”

Junhui sighed. Wonwoo still didn’t have the confidence he needed to succeed in the Grand Prix. It was honestly frustrating as Junhui saw past the flaws to the great skater Wonwoo was really, yet Wonwoo just brushed it off with his insecurities. Junhui just wanted to scream at the world.

Instead he sunk back into the plush seats and snaked his hand into Wonwoo’s interlacing their fingers, squeezing their palms close together.

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo,” Junhui sighed. “When will you love yourself?”

He said nothing. His jaw tensed and he clenched his teeth together, breathing deeply; fingers still tightly grasping Junhui’s.

The rest of the ride was spent in silent tension, despite their fingers gripping the other. Neither wanted to be the first to break the silence, and even the driver felt the tension and kept his eyes averted to the road; no small talk towards the couple.

Junhui silently threw the driver a few bills and quickly checked in with the front desk at their hotel. Wonwoo stood back, feeling absolutely worthless and horrible. Even on the ride up to their room, Junhui silently pressed his shoulder against Wonwoo’s as the elevator silently flew up.

The door slowly shut, and the click of the lock sounded a lot louder in their silence. Junhui said nothing as he flopped down tiredly on the bed, pulling Wonwoo down with him, fingers brushing slowly through Wonwoo’s thick hair. Wonwoo’s eyelids grew heavy as Junhui continued the gentle massage, long fingers petting him with the most tender of love.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo slurred sleepily, closing his eyes one last time. He fell asleep to the image Junhui’s soft smile, eyes marred with worry and disappointment, and the quiet response of “Apologize later, be confident now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scream with me on [tumblr](http://minimumobsession.tumblr.com/)  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> scream with me on [tumblr](http://minimumobsession.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
